


Disappointed

by FaunaFauna



Category: Cool World (1992)
Genre: F/M, are friend blowjobs a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 13:22:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7464927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaunaFauna/pseuds/FaunaFauna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sparks struggles with finding something to do on a Friday night. Based on Cool World dreams I've been having.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disappointed

**Author's Note:**

> This is an adaptation of a series of three Cool World dreams I've had lately. I don't know if I'll continue this; it's up to any future dreams to determine.

The Slash Club was Cool World's hottest, busiest night club. At least, that was how you could describe it if you wanted to be nice.

The building thumped almost painfully with the latest acid house tracks, which blasted at maximum volume. The partygoers in the building were getting too rowdy. It was typical Cool World manner to get loose, sure, but Sparks could barely see more than two feet away from his table. He'd come to the club solely to visit Holli Would, but she was somewhere across the dance floor, sheathed in a wall of neurotic wiggling Doodles. Chico must've been getting generous at front the doors. Sparks hissed, sitting back in his chair. He asked himself, _Is half the damn city in this room?_

The waitress on duty, Lonette, stepped by Sparks's table. She was cute, sure, but too subdued for his tastes. Not to mention the fact that she was Detective Harris's girl. Sparks sat up and tried to look semi-innocuous.

“Everything, er, all right tonight?” Lonette asked, apprehensive. “Want anything to drink?”

Sparks gave her a half-assed wave, muttering, “Nah, I'm good tonight.”

“You want me to check if there's a table closer to the front?”

“Nah, but..heh...” Sparks smirked and glanced up from behind his sunglasses. “You're smart. No wonder that detective's got it for ya.”

Lonette looked flattered, but shook her head in dismay. She said, “You might be a low-life, but you should know better than to mess around with Holli.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma'am.”

Lonette walked on, and Sparks sunk into his chair with a frustrated sigh. He was almost annoyed to remember he was here for _Holli_.

Holli Would was something else. Nature's perfect femme fatale, with heavy emphasis on the “fatale”. Yeah, sure, she had a body that made other Doodles' jaws drop through the floorboards, but there was a dangerous, almost sinister edge under Holli's surface. Sparks had managed to get onto a personal level with her, and he'd become fully aware of how cunning and dangerous she could be. She knew full well how attractive she was, and she used it to get whatever she wanted. That included getting her fans to _do_ whatever she wanted. Getting her in a bad mood could even lead to someone getting erased.

What really killed Sparks, though, was the fact that _this_ was what turned him on about Holli.

She was exclusively into men, but that certainly didn't narrow down the scope of _who_ she was interested in. Sparks wasn't upset about it in concept; Holli was a grown woman and could do whatever she wanted, but Sparks wished to hell that he could _be_ that “whatever.” And he sure wished she'd at least quit chasing Noids.

A scribbly-looking, big-shoed weirdo ran straight into Sparks's table, breaking him out of his thoughts. The guy stumbled to a stop, and barely had a chance to get a good look at who he'd run into before Sparks swung around in his chair, turned to face him, and drove a purple fist straight through his face. Stars and canaries spun around the little weirdo's head as Sparks got up to leave.

There wasn't much else to do in Cool World on a Friday night. You could either watch the usual sleaze, or you could be a part of it, or you could sit around being tame and vanilla. Sparks was sick of the former, and would rather be erased than do the latter. He delegated himself to standing under a streetlight a block away from the Slash Club.

The feeling of the night was almost kind of nice. Subdued, muffled Thrill Kill Kult pounded far up the street from the nightclub, accented by the sounds of general hoodlum acts. Somebody on the next street seemed to be scrapping a car. Sparks smirked at the familiar sound; stuff like that made him almost feel right at home.

Sparks idly lit a cigarette. The smoke from the end of it coiled off into the night air, some of it twisting off into new life as short-lived little Doodles. He didn't pay them mind, preferring to keep his eyes on the street.

Some little elven Doodle with sickening, dewy Disney eyes was heading up the sidewalk, right about to pass Sparks. This idiot was above and beyond being on the wrong side of town.

“Hey there,” Sparks called out, his voice a bit raspy. “You look like you could use some help.”

The little guy stood up, prudent, his rosy pastel colours clashing against the grime of the street. He chirped, “Oh! I guess I do, stranger!”

“Yeah...looks to me like your pockets are too heavy.”

Sparks made a quick swipe and grabbed the little guy by the ankles, flinging him upside down into the air. He shook the guy, hard, ignoring his shrieks as coins and bills fell down onto the sidewalk. When the money flow ran dry, Sparks tossed the guy to the side like an empty soda can. The little guy ran away in a flurry of tears and Sparks found it more corny than anything else.

Sparks bent down, counting his winnings; little over $90. _Better than nothing,_ he figured.

Someone shouted out, “Hey!”

Sparks's head snapped up to look. If it was Harris or Nails, he'd have only a few seconds to get around the block and the hell out of dodge.

But it wasn't. Some punk girl was jaywalking across the street, waving a folded paper in her hand. Sparks immediately knew by her jagged green hair that she was his kind of company.

“Hey!” she called out, closer now. “I got a letter for you!”

“Uh-huh?” Sparks held out his hand, and she shoved the letter in. Sparks flipped it open and was greeted with the overwhelming smell of camellia perfume. Rose red ink on manilla paper read,

_Dear Sparky,_

_Leaving so soon?_

_I'm done performing. Come on over._

_Love, Holli_

The i in her name was carefully dotted with a heart. Sparks bit his lip at the sight of it, feeling himself melt at the sight of it. The punk looked awkward as she stepped away from the puddle that used to be Spark's feet. The kid asked, “You, uh, want me to bring her anything back, sir?”

Sparks quickly pulled himself back into shape. He cleared his throat loudly, thankful that the kid was being cool about this.

“Nah,” he grunted, pulling out a $5 and pushing it into her hand. “I'll be dealin' with this myself. Where is she?”

“Ms. Holli said she was goin' home,” the kid said with a shrug.

 _Perfect_.

♥♣♥

Sparks didn't even have to knock on Holli's door. It swung open expectantly, and he strolled right in, a new bottle of champagne in hand. You didn't just go up to meet Holli without a gift if you wanted to leave in one piece.

“I'm here,” he announced. Little Doodles took up their own corners of the room, mostly keeping to themselves; the little band of poker mice had set up behind the couch again. Holli was sitting by her window as yet another Marilyn Monroe movie played from her projector in the centre of the room. She caught sight of Sparks and waved him over, smiling coyly.

“Leaving before I could finish?” Holli asked, eyes locked on him. “That's not very gentlemanly of you.”

Casual, Sparks held the champagne bottle out. “You know I don't do well in crowds, Hol.”

Holli accepted the bottle graciously, giving Sparks a kiss on the cheek. He managed to look at least serviceably stoic. She strutted over to the centre table and poured champagne out into a bunch of glasses. A bobbing monochrome mouse swept one up on the spot.

“So what's on?” Sparks asked, nodding at the projected movie. Holli turned to look at the projection with a longing gaze.

“ _Don't Bother To Knock_ ,” she breathed. “Marilyn's big screen debut. It's worth watching just to see her in a psychological thriller, let alone with...oh god, Richard Widmark...!”

Holli twirled on her heel, hugging her sides, letting herself fall back onto her bed. Sparks pulled a chair out from the centre table and took a champagne glass.

“You're dead-set on Noids, huh?”

Holli sat up, grinning. “You're jealous, Sparky.”

“Am not,” Sparks retorted before turning away and slugging back the contents of his glass. He could hear high heels clicking on the floor towards him. Holli set her hands on Sparks's shoulders, and he could feel his eyes widen; his heart started to beat through his chest and he hastily pushed it back in.

“Sparks,” she whispered in his ear. “How long have we known each other?”

“C...cuh...couple years, I figure,” he sputtered.

“Exactly. So you should know by now...” Holli moved around to smugly look him in the face. “...That I'm not _stupid_.”

Sparks nodded, obedient, feeling his joints lock into place as she walked by him. He almost felt genuinely unsafe. One didn't feel even _remotely_ like an equal around Holli; it was that strange, mysterious edge to her that put one's nerves on red alert. Sparks felt more like a purple frog about to have a sleek white snake coil around him and crush him. In the meantime, Holli took a chair at the table, turning it so she could look back up at the Monroe movie.

“Just...” She clenched a fist. “Don't you ever wonder what it's like to be one of _them_?”

“Yeah, in my nightmares,” Sparks snorted, glaring at some oily-faced guy on screen.

Holli clicked her tongue and batted at Sparks's arm. She sighed, “Oh, come on! The Noids aren't bad at all. I've been seeing you canoodling with some girls who cross over in their dreams...!”

Sparks sat up, remembering. She was right. “Yeah, I figured I should try it, just once. They're all jelly-ish and I don't know if I like it.”

“I think it's exotic, personally.”

“Just remember some kissing and gropes are all we can do, y'know...who the hell _knows_ what happens when a human gets it on with one of us.”

Holli smirked. “But haven't you ever fantasized about it?”

“Holli, babe, you know I'm a trendsetter...” Sparks set down his glass. “But that's one thing I don't wanna be the first to do.”

“Hmm.”

“Besides, Doodles are all I'm into...” Sparks considered saying more, confessing even, but stopped. He shut his mouth and looked away. There was a pause before Holli laughed, and Sparks didn't know whether to worry or not.

Holli got up from her chair and crept closer, whispering, “Doodles like _me_...?”

 _Oh my god_.

“I...” Sparks didn't know where to look. “I won't lie to ya, Holli...”

Holli set a finger on his lips, making him freeze in place. Then the fingertip began to slide down his chin, down his neck, down his tie. She delicately got to her knees, still staring up at a heavy-breathing Sparks.

Holli whispered again, “Good. No more lying around here.”

Sparks looked to the ceiling, biting his lip. He heard his fly being zipped down and braced himself for impact.

Holli's warm mouth touched skin, and Sparks felt his body temperature almost triple. This was far from being the first time the two of them had fooled around, but it _felt_ like it was. Holli craned her head in deeper and Sparks squirmed almost helplessly from the flick of her tongue.

“H-H-Hah-Hooolli--” he sputtered. “Wh-whuh-what about the Doodles in the r--”

“Just focus on me,” Holli cooed, her hot breath tingling against Spark's privates. Obeying, Sparks looked down to see her, with one shaky hand landing to rest fondly in Holli's hair. She hummed at the touch and pushed herself closer into Sparks's lap. Sparks bit his lip; Holli seemed to be enjoying it even more than Sparks was, and if she wasn't, then she was one hell of an actress.

He couldn't last. He'd gone into it too excited and knew that'd been what cut him short. He made a choked, throaty noise as he came, almost half of a wail, fingers digging on reflex into Holli's silky hair. Almost gasping for air, Sparks sunk back in his chair, legs splayed out. Holli stood up, laughing at this, and stepped away to grab a glass of champagne. She looked strangely accomplished.

The tides of afterglow eventually subsided; Sparks forced himself into a seated position once more and pushed up his sunglasses. Trying to sound collected, Sparks began, “Ah, Holli...?”

“Mm-hmm?” she said around a champagne sip.

“You, uh...had your eyes closed the whole time. Since we're all “no more lying”, uh...”

“Mm?”

“Be honest. You were thinking of someone else the whole time, weren't you?”

Holli giggled, shaking her head. “Well... _maybe_! Sorry, Sparky.”

Sparks forced himself to smile, too, and sputtered a half-laugh. He added, “Yeah, it's...it's okay.”

Maybe if he said it, he figured, it would be so.


End file.
